Like any other
by Yoyi-Yi
Summary: It was a first time like any other, but the second time was better. (Notes: Before reading: This fic is based on another fic and contain "angels")


**Notes**:

**READ THIS FIRST**: Inspired by Pagan Angel and a Borrowed Ship by SeekingIdlewild. You can find it on AO3, and you surely want to read it first if you want to get any of what's happening here. So, go there, read it, and then read this. Because if you don't you won't understand some stuff. xDD

I don't have the slightest idea why. So just read it, be weirded out by it, and forget about it. :D The title and the summary s*cks. :)

Also, may get confusing. I think it is.

**HORRIFIC** English, which means without beta. :D If you see something that's too horrific to continue being there, tell me so I can change it. Thanks. :)

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><p>It was a first time like any other.<p>

Rush left that roof after he fetched the water feeling a humiliated. He didn't care if his wings told whatever about him, he knew he wasn't made up for being a servant. Though before he flew away, he could swear that Host seemed as if he wanted to say something more—in case it was another order, he just left.

He wandered for two days more, exploring the place where he had first awaken. It was when he was claimed by his first master. Said master looked at him as if he was not suited for any task he could give, but still he tried. At first, Rush was very rebellious, taking his time to do the tasks, and even leaving them half-done in favour of investigate. That, of course, was the reason of his first whipping.

It was a lesson he had to learn, how to avoid these kind of punishments. Right after it, he was left in his cell to think about what he had done wrong, but he was expected to continue with his work the next day. Cleaning the stables wasn't something desirable, but he would do it thoroughly next time.

Rush was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't heard the knock on his door. He got startled by a hand on his shoulder. It was another of the servants, a woman with curly, brown hair, freckles on her nose and a warm smile.

"Be at ease! I'm here to treat your wounds," she said. "Oh, my! Your feathers are all in disarray. Let me help you with that later, okay?" He nodded and let her put an ointment over his back. "You have pretty shaped wings," she commented.

"Thanks," was the only thing he could think on saying. He was sure she wouldn't have said something like that if she had seen that Host's wings, but then again, she looked like she had no intentions on going on a trip to spot different kind of wings. She looked happy working in this farm, for this master.

And as said, his wounds healed fast enough that night, so the next morning he was healthy enough to resume his tasks. But before he could start with it, his master called for him. His wings were tied up and he was forbidden to fly for a whole year.

That punishment was tougher than the physical one. Not being able to stretch his wings or to leave the grown behind was almost unbearable.

During that time of period he could observe the rest of the servants. Sometimes they would gather and rearrange the plumage to each other. He wanted to participate, but he knew that the punishment for taking off the robes on his wings would be far worse, so he just kept looking at them, wondering why they had faces that showed so much happiness.

When his master finally took away the robes on his wings he felt so relaxed he almost fell from the bench he was sitting on.

"Hang on there, boy. I'll send you someone to help with this mess," Rush heard his master say. A bit later, the same woman who tended him the wounds of his whipping stood on his door, smiling.

"Master told me to tend you." She didn't say anything else and started right away to fix his feathers. They were quite the mess, he knew because he could feel it, even when he couldn't see it completely.

The feeling that came with it almost made him fall again. There was a constant humming in the room now, but he wasn't sure so sure it wasn't him.

"Is this your first time?" she asked, her breath caressing the skin of his back. Rush nodded. "I figured as much. You never joined us before, when you just came, and short after that master had to restrain you." She let out a small laughter. "Who would have thought you would fly and don't come back until late one day. Now, you know you shouldn't do it more, right?"

Rush nodded again.

The woman got up, having finished her task and stood before him. "Are you all right?"

Rush didn't know what to say, he was speechless. And embarrassed. It had feel so good, so good. And she noticed. He knew without having to look up, because she let out a "oh". Rush felt his ears hot. His face was red, as his ears. He was so embarrassed.

"Don't worry about that. It happens sometimes," she tried to comfort him. "You know... I wouldn't mind to help you with..."

"No, no. Please. I... I am quite tired."

Both knew he was lying. She just nodded and left him with his huge problem between his legs.

~0~0~0~

Two hours more. Two hours more and he would be leaving. He was... leaving. He was leaving all that he had known, and he was leaving with the help of an Archangel, no less. He could be considered lucky. He declined an Archangel's request of being his servant, but that same Archangel was going to help him now, instead of getting angry and commanding him to follow his steps. Of course, Rush knew that Michael wasn't that way, but still...

He shook his head and finished preparing his haversack. He didn't know how long it will take, to arrive to Earth, but he was sure he had all what he needed. He looked through the window. Still too early, still too impatient. He wasn't able to sleep. He had to do something, keep his mind occupied.

Or so he was thinking when he saw it. Something shining out. He took his haversack and left without looking back. It was not worth it. Not now. He walked with light steps until he was out, and then directed his way towards the light.

When he arrived, Michael was sitting comfortably, looking at the morning glow. The sun hadn't appeared yet, though it's light was starting to bathe their surroundings.

"You are here a bit early, don't you think?" Michael said, not looking at him, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

"I couldn't sleep," Rush replied. "You are here earlier than what we agreed."

Michael smiled. "Yes. I suppose I couldn't sleep either." He got up, still not looking at Rush. "Shall we?"

Rush nodded.

They were halfway when it started to pour. The wind was too strong to fight it. Rush thought that this was, somehow, the way he was being told not to leave. A warning. He looked sideways at Michael, looking for any sign of distress, anything, but he looked calm, if a bit worried about the weather.

"Look! We can stop there!"

There was a small hut. Rush frowned. It looked suspicious. The perfect place to get ambushed. He followed Michael there, feeling uneasy.

Once they were in, they proceeded to set a fire on the fireplace and dry themselves. Rush could feel some of his feathers were in disarray, so he took one of his tools out and used it to fix them. It was more difficult without mirrors, but it was better than leaving them like that. He had seldom let any other angel help him with his grooming after his first and embarrassing time. It took him some time to come up with this, and it was not perfect, but it helped to avoid that kind of incidents.

"What is that?"

He stopped midway. Michael's voice was full of curiosity. He had forgotten about his companion for a second, lost in thoughts and not quite unpleasant memories. He fixed his gaze into the Archangel's eyes. He looked genuinely interested in what he was holding.

"Nothing. Just a stick," he said. It was a wooden stick with some metal circles on one end. He called it a comb of feathers, but he had never shown it to anyone, nor let it be seen, keeping in safe.

"You were re-arranging your feathers with it." It didn't sound like an accusation, but Rush felt startled by Michael's words. "Don't you like it when someone else helps?"

Rush looked away, holding tightly his stick. "I... the... the first time... I mean..." he hated it, being at a loss of words. It was uncomfortable. "I had a..."

"Bad experience?"

"No," he shook his head. "No. More like an unexpected and weird experience." Rush peeked up at Michael, looking for his expression. He looked understanding.

"I see," he said, and after a few seconds of silence he approached him. "Would you let me see it?" Michael reached for the stick, but didn't took it, just waited with his palm up.

Rush gave it to him, if a bit reluctant and saw how a powerful Archangel resembled more a curious new-born.

"How does it work?"

Rush took it from Michael's hands. "Face that way," he instructed, then, he put it on his hand again and guided it through his feathers, straighten the ones that the wind had messed up. "It's not as effective as a helping hand, but works well for me."

"It feels a bit cold," Michael commented turning around to face him. "Let me help you."

Even before he could think about it, Rush nodded and turned around. Inside him he was a bit worried. _Just relax,_ he thought, and closed his eyes. Michael touch was soft and confident.

Michael arranged the feathers with utmost care. He was lost in his thoughts. _Must you be this cruel to me, Fledgling? _His hands started to tremble. Was this the last opportunity to touch him? He was hoping it wasn't the case. Just now, he realised he had been harbouring these feelings, but, since when? To say that his wings weren't pleasant to look at would be a lie.

He was done, but still, he couldn't stop touching his plumage. His hands travelled to the place where the wings and the back joined. Michael felt how his Fledgling tensed up when he caressed the skin with his fingertips.

Rush twisted his head and torso to look at Michael. His eyes were wide open as his mouth was, his pupils reflecting surprise. His breathing quickening. They stared at each other eyes, losing any sense of time, not paying attention to their surroundings. It had been a ghost-like touch, barely noticeable, but even so they both froze like that.

Their faces were closer than before and they could feel the other's breath on their skin. Rush wished his heart wouldn't hammer as strongly as it did inside his chest, the sound was deafening, and he was sure Michael could heard it too.

"We can continue," Michael said, breaking the silence.

"What?"

"The weather, it seems it's better now."

Rush looked out, the clouds were leaving and the sun bathed the freshly wet fields making the small pools and the drops shine with a myriad of colours.

"Yes, we should," he stood up and took his haversack, moving towards the door.

"Fledgling." Rush turned around. Michael was holding the stick. "Can I have this?"

Rush nodded. He could make another one anyway. He looked out again, a pang of excitement on his chest. He was going, and hopefully, never be back. He would look for those places. He would find them. He would see them with his own eyes.

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><p><strong>Final notes<strong>: Because SeekingIdlewild told me that Michael wouldn't act on his instincts I made it so that he stopped himself before doing anything :D


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